


Smile

by glassofwater



Series: Batfam stuff [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Bruce Wanye Can't Get Over The Past, Bruce Wayne Needs a Hug, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Dick Grayson is Robin, Gen, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Nostalgia, Sadness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:20:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29680383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glassofwater/pseuds/glassofwater
Summary: Sometimes, Bruce can't help but miss his son's old smiles.("Bruce angst with one of his children"~ Anon)
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne
Series: Batfam stuff [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2058762
Comments: 2
Kudos: 85





	Smile

Sometimes, when things are good, Bruce will look at Dick and see him smile. He’ll see his son smile in a way that doesn’t give away his stress, his anxieties, his troubles. And even though Bruce loves those smiles, lives for the days where his eldest looks happy, _genuinely happy and alive,_ it makes him sad when he realizes that Dick smiles differently than he used to. 

Perhaps it's old age getting to him. All these years gone by that’s making him so sentimental and nostalgic. But he sees the difference in the way his son smiles. Saddens himself when he comes to the conclusion that the nine year old boy he took in on that dark night smiled differently than the twenty seven year old standing before him. 

It’s not necessarily a bad thing. No, not at all. 

Bruce has enjoyed watching his children grow up, loved every second of watching them become adults and their own persons. It is for certain his greatest privilege to have been able to witness such amazing people become greater. And yes, they’re all different, and yes, he loves them all the same, but sometimes he’ll think back and yearn for the days where life was simpler and it was just _them._ Just Batman and Robin against the world, contained in a crime ridden city that hardly ever said thank you. The beginning was rough, there were days where none of it seemed worth it, but that little boy who beamed at him after every patrol somehow made it worthwhile. 

That little boy who would jeer at criminals three times his size. That small but courageous ball of energy that never seemed to get tired or run out of jokes. That minuscule of a thing running to and fro across gargoyles and skyscrapers, enticing his partner in a race against the sky line as the BatSignal lit up dreary clouds. 

Those were the days Bruce longed for sometimes. The days where Dick’s smile was still innocent and uncontained in that childish way that was all gappy teeth and splitting lips. Still young enough to not understand why anyone would want to damper their expression of joy, nor find laughter embarrassing. 

Later in life, Dick’s laughs got quieter, a hand covering the giggles his mouth produced, and Bruce’s heart ached all the more for it because, _why?_ Why hide such a beautiful thing? Why hide happiness? But he understands it as well because, and he hates this part of it, it’s how people grow up. That gummy smile gets replaced with a closed mouth and a strained quirk of the lips. That high pitched and incessant screech of bliss becomes replaced with a quiet chuckle, tampered down completely when no one else laughs. The chaotic flailing and furious movement of limbs to show excitement is instead suppressed and hidden behind wringing hands and nervous lilts. 

Bruce _misses_ those days. 

Misses them so badly it feels like something physical tugging at his heart when he sees the smile of his little robin no longer there. And sometimes, on the days where things are too good and too cheerful, Bruce feels tears gathering in his eyes as he reminisces and laments the past and isn’t that awful of him? How can he miss someone who never left? He sees that nine year old rear his head up occasionally, on the days where the entire family is home and Alfred prepares a wonderful meal and no one fights and argues. Always though, _always,_ he disappears and each time he vanishes, Bruce feels his stomach roll and his heart clench because he _aches_ for those days again. 

And he knows Dick knows this. Knows that his eldest sees how much Bruce longs for something as simple as an innocent smile, and it kills Bruce that Dick knows this. Kills him because he also knows that there’s nothing to be done about it. Kills him because he knows his eldest feels guilty and that’s _not_ what Bruce wants him to feel but…. He’s always been a man of the past. He clings onto it with a fury full of hope that, maybe one day, if he holds onto it long enough, hard enough, it’ll return and things will go back to the way they were. When the world wasn’t so big and they didn’t have as many scars and nightmares and their biggest problems were trying to make sure Jim didn’t see them coming and going into the night. 

Bruce aches for those days filled with only Dick’s pure smile that came as easy as breathing. 

And now, when he looks at his eldest, it’s no longer just a sign of delight. Not with the wrinkles, the dark circles, the small, white scars, the uneven stubble, the ever creasing forehead. Now, it’s a smile of relief. Of tiredness. Of bad dreams. Of long nights. Of too many funerals. Of forgotten pleasures. Of responsibilities. Of too many responsibilities. Of love. Of hate. Of anguish. Of many, many things that never once occurred to a nine year old as he flipped through the air and cackled because it wasn’t a job or an obligation- it was simply _fun._

And Bruce desperately misses when Dick’s smiles were fun.

**Author's Note:**

> short and sad :)


End file.
